


cherish

by sowish



Series: (cherish is) the word i use to describe all the feeling that I have [1]
Category: Dreamcatcher (Korea Band)
Genre: F/F, but when is the question, i never watched marriage story but i can only hope this is better than that heterosexual mess, i say jibo angst but i love jibo too much to end it angsty, if this is based off of glee's mashup of cherish it can't be THAT bad :D, jibo angst, so when i finish this everything will be fine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:14:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27117325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sowish/pseuds/sowish
Summary: bora loves minji. she'd swear her life on it.brief vignettes on the reality of marriage and life.
Relationships: Kim Bora | SuA/Kim Minji | JiU
Series: (cherish is) the word i use to describe all the feeling that I have [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2071938
Comments: 27
Kudos: 105





	1. you don't know how many times i've wished that i had told you

**Author's Note:**

> i was in the mood for angst and i've been wanting to write jibo so here we are!!! im planning on doing this as a mini series of little pieces. im most likely going to be posting this on twitter as well.

Marriage, Bora thinks, isn’t all that it’s cut out to be. Yeah, there are the good things, like waking up in the same bed as Minji and feeling the comfort of the rising and falling of her chest in her arms and the blissful happiness of making dinner with her after coming home from work.

But, there’s also the shattering reality of life that makes everything between it all bitter. Like all the days that her job takes away from Minji, the pile of bills sitting on their countertop, the cold shoulder that welcomes her when another date night gets lost in the hours that Bora spends in the dance studio.

At first, it was fine. One date night cancelled was fine. Two, three, four dates turned into more lonely nights for Minji at their dinner table, the food gone cold and her patience wearing thin. And it’s not like Bora purposely decides on being tardy or chooses to completely miss the opportunity to be with her wife—for God’s sake, she loves her; she married her for a reason, professed her vows with the truest intent of following through with them. 

(Even if seven years have passed, Bora can remember with vivid detail the way Minji looked at the altar, her light brown hair in soft waves, a veil so immaculate and effervescent it looked as if magic trailed behind her, her beautiful white dress glittering in the glow of the sun. But more importantly, Bora remembers how her eyes seemed to twinkle as they looked back at her, the loving smile on her soft, pink lips, the sound of her voice promising her future to her. Bora remembers the joy that bloomed from her chest and how it flowered through her veins like all she lived on was the idea of sharing her life with the woman she loves, how she told her that she’d cherish every moment with her).

Where did it all go wrong? When did she begin to disappoint Minji, break the promises that she made to her? 

When did Minji pull away to stop her heart from breaking? (As if pulling away ever stopped the pain that dug its heels into her heart and pushed until it hurt too much to breathe).

When did Minji stop trusting her?

Because Bora knows, _feels,_ that Minji doesn’t trust her anymore—not to keep to her word, not to keep her heart safe.

And why would she?

Why would Minji allow her in when Bora failed to hold her close, to show that she is worth being loved?


	2. you don’t know how many times i wished that i could hold you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bora hasn’t held minji in months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here’s part two! i hope you all enjoy!!

Trust, once lost, is difficult to earn back. 

That much Bora is learning because no matter how much she tries, no matter what she does to show her wife that she is still committed to the life that they chose, it’s as if Minji’s walls are fortified to keep her out, like she subconsciously refuses to give Bora anymore chances to hurt her even deeper.

Minji laughs easy around their friends, looks at them with an infinite affinity. Yet, Minji’s eyes don’t shine the way that they used to when they’re alone. They look at her, and in her warm brown eyes, a dragging sadness drowns out the love that shouts amidst the flooding of disappointment and despondency. 

Minji doesn’t wait in bed for her anymore. She’ll tuck herself in, respond to her emails, and turn the light off while Bora brushes her teeth in their bathroom, Minji’s back turned away from her and towards the window while she tries to fall asleep with the jagged edges of a broken heart keeping her awake. It’s a cold reminder for Bora that her warmth is not what Minji wants holding her to sleep—that her warmth cannot give her wife the comfort she desperately needs.

Bora misses how Minji would linger by the bathroom, leaning on the doorframe while she tells Bora about her day: what she ate, whatever ridiculous scheme Yoohyeon and Siyeon got up to at work, how good she felt with the sun grazing her skin when it shined or how contemplative she was while looking at the racing raindrops on her window when it poured. She misses how Minji would sit on their sink countertop and talk about everything under the sun while she showers (or how she would even join her for the sake of missing her too much that a shower away from her was too unbearable, how she’d massage the conditioner into her hair and leave gentle kisses across her shoulders after it rinses away, rub out the knots along her back when Bora whines about dance practice, how she’d be able to melt into the comfort of Minji’s arms holding her and the soothing heat of water on her skin). 

More than anything, she misses falling asleep knowing that Minji loves her, knowing that Minji, too, feels the affection Bora has for her. Because Bora hasn’t held Minji for months, hasn’t felt the warmth of her skin on hers and the comfort that comes with the safety of her smell wrapped around her, has spent too many mornings waking up to an empty bed and cold coffee in a pot left for her. 

And what kills Bora the most is knowing that Minji misses it too, misses her just as much, if not more—that Minji has spent too many nights alone in their too-big-for-one bed feeling like she isn’t worth the grace of Bora’s love. (When really, Bora feels, no,  _ knows  _ she is not worth the love that Minji has for her. Not when she is the one making, perhaps, the greatest woman alive, feel meaningless).

(And it’s because Minji knows this much: if Bora loves, her love is not silent. It shouts itself from the rooftops, at the top of her lungs until her voice reaches the other side of the Earth, to Andromeda itself if Bora really tried. It shows in everything she does, in everything she thinks. Because, Minji thinks, when Bora loved her, there wasn’t a moment that she didn’t feel loved. She knew that when Bora loved her, she would circle the sun with her even if that meant living in a shitty apartment with a leaky ceiling and creaky floors). 

(But, Minji doesn’t know this. Bora can love in silence, loves even when her mind is too preoccupied to show it. Because when she dances, she’ll think about how Minji would cheer her on or how she would encourage her whenever she feels like giving up. And since their first night of being Mrs. and Mrs. Kim, dance couldn’t go by without reminding her of the first dance she shared with Minji as wives—how it felt to be held so close to her, the feeling of Minji’s heartbeat ricocheting against her chest and beating in time with hers, how she felt like the world could end in that moment but it would be alright because Minji would hold her through it all and protect her. 

Even the water bottle she brings with her reminds her of Minji because Minji hated seeing all the plastic bottles piling up in their recycle bin and went and got Bora a purple reusable steel bottle, the sticker of cherries on it because Minji liked putting cherries on everything because it reminded her of Cherry). 

It’s the agonizing irony that breaks Bora’s heart—the irony that all Minji wants is to be loved by Bora, to be held to sleep in her arms, to know that Bora loves her, but yet, is far too hurt to allow herself the thought that Bora does love her because she has spent too long thinking that she has lost her to the throes of life.

Minji hasn’t lost her; Bora loves her still, loves her even if life ran away from her and she is struggling to keep up. 

If Minji was willing to wait, if Minji would afford her another chance, Bora would do anything to catch up and make the wait worthwhile, to alleviate the hurt she gave—be the wife that Minji deserves, the wife that Minji married.

Because, truly, a life without Minji is one that terrifies Bora. The idea of her leaving grasps all of the air in her lungs and yanks until there is nothing left to breathe and twists a knife deeper into the caverns of her heart. 

Bora wants Minji to stay,  _ needs _ her to stay, because Bora doesn’t know how to move forward without Kim Minji by her side. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don’t have much planned past the resolution but i want to do slices of life. i’m open to any suggestions so you can drop them in my comments or my cc/twitter!


	3. you don't know how many times i've wished that i could mold you into someone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bora knows one dinner together won’t fix everything. but she can hope that it’ll be the first step to being better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope y’all enjoy!

When Bora was in college, cooking used to remind her of her mother. She had spent her youth by her mom’s side in the kitchen, helping her out and holding the pride of being her sous chef. Everything she knows, she learned from her mother—how to chop, what compliments what, how to prevent herself from crying no matter the onion. But, then came Minji. Minji who liked to help wherever Bora needed her, whenever she needed her—even if that only meant her being Bora’s extension and reaching for appliances she can’t reach on her own. 

Bora can manage on her own in the kitchen. She’s familiar enough with cooking that she doesn’t need help. But, cooking has never been so enjoyable until Minji was there with her. That much, she comes to understand as she busies herself around the stove. And as she cooks, she misses Minji’s jokes, her laughter warming her heart, the comfort of having the one she adores the most so close to her as she does something that she loves. 

Some part of her is used to sidestepping and checking over her shoulder as she moves to make sure that she won’t bump into her wife. Usually, Minji likes to fondly watch as Bora ambles around the kitchen at the dinner table, but sometimes, she likes to rest her hands on Bora’s waist and mold herself against her back to peer over her shoulder and press a kiss to her temple. Bora can almost hear her voice, a praise, a “ _It looks so delicious, baby_ ,” a sound so reassuring and loving that she barely tilts her head to the ghost of what used to be. 

Right now, it’s a little past five in the evening and Minji should be getting home from work by now, tired from her day and dragging her feet. The house smells of malatang, a dish Bora remembers that Minji is currently infatuated with. Bora knows that malatang won’t solve all of their problems, wouldn’t be enough to close the distance between them, wouldn’t even be enough for Minji to spare her glance that wasn’t laden in disappointment and longing. 

But it’s a start and that’s what matters because more than anything, Bora wants to fix things—wants to be better, wants to sleep in Minji’s arms again, wants to laugh with her in the morning over coffee and kisses. 

When the door opens, Bora’s only company runs to it. Wagging her tail and circling around Minji, Cherry’s barks are high and excited as she welcomes Minji home. The fondness in Minji’s voice is loving and sweet, a sound that Bora misses desperately. Carrying the Pomeranian in her arms, Minji seems almost shocked when she smells the tantalizing aroma of malatang in the air, even more shell shocked when she finds Bora in the kitchen wearing the apron she got for her as a housewarming gift nine years ago. 

(It was white and cheesy with “Kiss the Chef” written in rainbow bubble letters and had a small bird wearing a chef’s hat on it. Even if their friends liked to make fun of Bora whenever she wore it, she couldn’t help but to wear it with pride because there’s something so distinctly _Minji_ about it. And plus, it gave her an excuse to go and demand kisses while she cooked and Minji was never one to refuse her, especially in that apron).

“Hey, Minji. Welcome home.”

Smiling at her, somewhat awkwardly and tight-lipped, Minji is cautious as she approaches Bora, pressing a tentative kiss against the corner of her lips. It’s nothing like the nervous kisses Minji used to give when they first started dating, nothing like the comfort of the ones she used to give when they were happier in their marriage. It’s hesitant and wary, almost scared in a subtle way. And if Bora didn’t know Minji well, perhaps, the trepidation in her actions would be nonexistent. But, Bora knows Minji. Bora knows what Minji looks like when she’s happy and comfortable with where she is at, has felt it for years. 

This is far from that.

Minji feels so close, and yet, so terribly and heartachingly far, like she could extend her hands and touch her, feel the softness of her skin and warmth of her lips, but she could never hold her, couldn’t quite keep her in her arms. 

(And most times, Bora remembers that Minji would positively melt at her words, would nearly skip to Bora to kiss her because she couldn’t possibly go on with her day without doing so when they were happier, before life demanded Bora’s attention and she struggled to keep her love close).

“Work didn’t need you today?”

There’s something about how Minji sounds. Terse and short, in a way, yet, polite out of obligation. Doing her best to not wince at the mention of work, Bora shrugs, “I figured I’m allowed to take off early.”

Seeing right through her, Minji quirks an eyebrow, “They gave you a hard time, huh?”

Deflating, Bora sighs heavily, “Yeah. But, it doesn’t matter. I’m not letting them push me around anymore. I’m not working overtime anymore.”

As Minji puts Cherry down, Bora hears disbelief in her hushed voice, somewhat cold and condescending, “That’s surprising.”

The harsh sound of Minji’s voice feels like swallowing knives, its edges cutting up her throat as she gulps down the knot in her throat. It’s not like Minji was wrong either, was wrong to keep her walls up and protect herself from what hurts her.

(There’s something so utterly devastating about Minji needing protection from her—the fear that manifests in the form of her defense to the heartbreak that has torn her apart. Heartbreak that has Bora’s name scarred into it).

Bora knows that she has allowed herself to lose herself to her work, allowed for it to take up her life and pull her away from her love. Mostly because it was easier to just keep dancing, to keep ignoring the nagging in her head telling her that she was actively hurting her wife—someone she swore to love and protect for as long as she lived. It was easier to be a coward, to choose to keep herself safe from her faults and failures. 

(But, Bora knows that if she can’t fix this—if she can’t show Minji that she’s worth being loved, that she wants to take care of her trust and faith and that she won’t abuse the privilege of being the one to hold her heart in her hands again—it will be her greatest failure).

Ignoring the comment, Bora twists the ring on her left hand, a nervous tick that evolved over the years because it helped calm her down. The coarse edges of the diamonds there would remind her of who put it on her finger, would remind her of the woman who could bring her down back to Earth when she lost herself to the voices in her head. “I uh- I’m making malatang. I know you’ve been craving it.”

And when Minji has the slightest flash of guilt in her eyes, Bora feels her stomach twist, “I’m sorry, Bora. I already got something to eat with Singnie and Yoohyeonnie.”

(After so many dinners spent alone, Minji got tired of staring at an empty chair across from her and started asking her friends to join her for dinner. They couldn’t be Bora, could never really comfort her the way her wife could, but, they were enough to give her the strength she desperately needed to go home and sleep in a cold and empty bed, to sleep with the reminder that Bora might not love her anymore).

Doing her best to hide her disappointment, the once appetizing smell of malatang falls short, the hope that sat on Bora’s tongue vanishing. “Ah, that’s- that’s okay! I can just eat it and we can relax together! Tell me about your day! Is your boss still giving you a hard time about your proposal?”

Minji shifts awkwardly, tucks her hair behind her ear, “He um- he approved it a few weeks ago.”

And Bora wishes she can say that she remains uncrushed under the weight of the grief that slams into her, wishes that her heart didn’t seem to seize under the authority of the wringing pain of anguish pumping through her veins. 

But, Bora remembers what this proposal meant to her wife, knows that she spent months agonizing over the details and perfecting every single line, how she worked hard to make it fit the standards of her superiors, and how she had spent nights with her hands in her hair as she endured the pounding against her temple when she adjusted the final parts of her project. 

Bora knows that when Minji is proud of herself and excited about her own achievements, she absolutely bursts from the seams with light—a shining glow impossible to ignore. Minji likes to share her happiness, likes to celebrate her triumphs with the people she loves, likes to ride out the love and praise she feels in waves of confidence and joy. And always, Bora was the first to hear of it and congratulate her, the first person Minji will share her happiness with over a kiss that’s more smile than it is lips, the first and last to feel the lengths of Minji’s victory. It was one of the things they shared—their achievements, their happiness. 

And just as their happiness ran dry, so did the need to share their aspirations and triumphs, the trust that Bora will not disappoint her in her finest hours. 

“I’m really happy for you, Ji. I know you worked really hard on it. He’d be insane to not accept it.”

(The nickname feels alien as it rolls off her tongue, even more so when she hears it. It only reminds Bora of her negligence).

Minji’s lips smile softly, genuinely. Bora thinks she might see a glimmer of pride in Minji’s eyes and a blush on her cheeks before it quickly disappears as an uncomfortable silence grows. 

“Um- I’m sorry, Bora, but I promised Dongie I’d help her with her Korean proficiency test tonight so…”

It’s clear in how Minji trails off that she won’t be home for the evening. 

It’s clear that, for once, Bora will be the one alone at their dinner table. 

And it’s not like Bora could say anything. How could she? How could she be entitled to saying anything when she didn’t deserve to?

The deepening cracks in her heart grow more feeble, more fragile, under the weight of her own shame. 

Bora can’t bear to watch dramas as she spends her night alone, doesn’t need to feel more pain in her heart, settles on whatever music show is on because she needs the noise to block out the insecurity that sings a siren’s song in her ears. 

Minji comes home late, sleeps on her side of the bed, her back turned to her wife. Bora lies awake after feigning sleep, feels the heavy weight of fear as it sits on her chest, the knots in her stomach twisting and tangling into vines of uncertainty. 

After getting out of bed to get some fresh air, Bora spends some time sitting on the floor beside Minji, the faint glimmer of the ring on her finger shimmering in the moonlight. 

She has to make this right. She has to make this work because if she can’t, if her love does not work, nothing else will. Because without Minji, Bora knows she will only fall apart. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think there should be one more chapter left. as much as i love writing angst i love writing happy jibo so i think fluff is in order after all this.


	4. cherish the thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bora learns that breaking is the first step to coming back together again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the final part! enjoy!

There is a lot to admire about Minji. There’s that smile, the one that makes her eyebrows dip and her nose scrunch—the one that Bora loves, probably, more than life because it makes the worries of her day disappear. Then, there’s her confidence—quiet but undeniable in how she carries herself. There’s Minji’s capacity to empathize and share her compassion with the world as if her heart is made to serve and save humanity from splintering into unrecoverable pieces. And if Bora were to make a list, it would never really end because there’s always something to admire about Minji—her laugh, her body, her positivity, her strength and will to see her goals through. 

But, most of all, all Bora can think about is Minji’s patience and her seemingly endless ability to wait and carry the burden of uncertainty. Because when Bora lies awake at night, it’s the torture of being so close yet so far to Minji that agonizes her. How can Minji shoulder these months of doubt and insecurity? How can she willingly endure all of this pain for someone who is terrified of confronting reality? (Bora knows that it could only be the infinite love that Minji has for her—her desire to stay by Bora’s side and to withstand the struggles of trying to survive. It makes her wonder how she could ever deserve her, could ever earn back Minji’s trust when she failed to reaffirm the same for her, how can she ever prove that she’s someone worth believing). 

Bora doesn’t come home late anymore, hasn’t for the past three months. Even if it is getting harder to pay off the bills piling up on their countertop, it’s a problem that she’s willing to work around if that means proving to Minji that she wants to be better. And she tries to do little gestures that she might appreciate, like bathing Cherry, waking up early to make Minji's coffee, offering to massage her back—doing anything she can to show her wife that she wants to be there. But still, Minji is impenetrable and cold, a distant ghost.

Sometimes, they’ll cook dinner together. Yet, it’s different. Instead of waltzing around the kitchen, getting distracted way too many times because Minji’s simply irresistible, and laughing together over nothing and everything, it’s quiet and tense, awkward. It’s as if they both lost their way around each other. And it makes the cracks in Bora’s heart break into fractures that dig into her chest and press up against her lungs because how could life be so cruel to have two people who love each other so dearly but be so foreign with each other? (Bora thinks that being strangers would be better than this torment because she knows Minji—knows her laugh, knows the warmth of her affection and love, also knows that Minji is just waiting for something to go wrong with how she looks at Bora with hopeless eyes and tight-lipped smiles). 

Eating together used to be one of Bora’s favorite things to do with Minji. Because her wife loves food—loves eating—so much that she derives the greatest joy by simply dining with the woman she loves the most. And it shows in her cheesy grin and soft, brown eyes that beam at her when they talk. But, as they eat now, conversation is forced and so painfully superficial that Bora cringes whenever Minji has to look down to eat. 

She never imagined life to be like this, never ever associated Minji with cold conversation and unbearable tension.

In the silence, it’s as if Bora can feel her patience wane even thinner. Because life isn’t supposed to be like this. Sure, Bora already accepted that life was going to be tough—money is hard to come by, relaxing is never really an option because if it’s not the bills she has to worry about, it’s being a disposable dancer in a studio that thrives off of constant productivity and content. Being married to Minji, Bora hoped with everything in her, would be her safety and her peace. (But, Bora knows it’s ignorant of her to think that, to assume that responsibility on their relationship because, as splendid as Minji is and as much as they love each other, it takes work to maintain their connection). 

And Bora has always lived by this thought: as strong as her love and care can be, they are nothing without her effort. That, to love and to care, it takes applying herself to show it, to not allow herself to get lazy and assume that the people she loves, that Minji, will just automatically know that Bora would flip the world upside down for her if she wanted her to. Because Minji is human—just as susceptible to being dragged down by her skeletons like Bora. And like how Minji is her lifeline when the voices in her head persuade her she’s anything less than worthy, Bora is that for her too—willingly and lovingly shoulders that responsibility even when Minji never asked it of her. 

(Except, as Minji drowned in her doubts, in worries that only Bora could ever pull her away from, her hands are only left to desperately grasp at thin air and the absence of safety).

Bora hates failure, hates knowing that she failed to show that she cares, that she loves Minji with every bone in her body, with an infinite affection that shouldn’t be humanly possible. And when Minji’s spoon scrapes against the plate and the deafening silence between them makes Bora’s blood boil, it makes her drop her utensils to fix Minji in a determined stare.

“I can’t take this anymore, Ji.”

Minji pauses, tenses, and then relaxes. Regarding her with calm eyes, she is composed and nonchalant.

“Is the food not good?”

Bora knows Minji is avoiding her, knows that she knows _exactly_ what this about—knows that this is a game she plays to hide her hurt and fear.

“I’m not talking about the food and you know it.”

Minji sighs, her eyes sullen and cold. “Then, what is this about, Bora?”

Minji says her name, spits it out like it leaves a sour taste in her mouth. (It’s so far from how she used to say it, used to utter it with adoration and love like Bora’s name itself was the key to heaven).

“We- we’re not okay. I’m tired of feeling like you’re a stranger to me. I’m tired of pretending like we’re fine. I hate sleeping beside you but feeling like there is a universe between us. I hate kissing you and knowing that you feel uncomfortable. I-”

And like a bomb that has reached its time and exploding, Minji is shooting up from her chair with her eyebrows furrowed and her hot glare scathing and angry, “Then, what? What do you want me to do about that, Bora? It’s not like you care! Whenever I tried talking to you about us, you’d just shut me out and run away!”

In all of the years that Bora has known Minji, she has never seen her anger take control of her—she has always had a good handle on simmering down and speaking through the red coloring her vision and keeping her composure. As she yells, it’s a foreign sound that unnerves Bora—it’s disorienting and it shakes her to her core and she never wants to hear Minji feel so resentful towards her again. 

“You- it’s like you just ignored my pain and wanted us to fall apart! Like you’re okay with ending it all.” As Minji’s voice falters, breaks and cracks under the tremendous weight of the misery that she harbors in her heart, it’s like Bora can hear how her heart broke, how it continues to break in every second that Bora neglects to take care of her, “I…I’ve spent so many nights just…wondering when you’ll come home with a divorce file for me to sign.”

Bora thinks that if she were standing, her knees would have collapsed because the mere idea of separating from Minji is devastatingly cataclysmic—feels like she has to fight through a dense fog to just breathe in air at the very thought. And looking at Minji, the despondency in her eyes and the absolute barren and lifeless look in them, Bora knows she genuinely spent her nights terrified about their future believing that the woman she endlessly loves could no longer afford her the same honor. Looking at her, at the wreck in front of her, Bora knows that these nights have hurt her in such a way that is unforgettable. 

(Bora didn’t know her heart could break even more, could shatter into so many pieces that sewing them back together seemed impossible—hates knowing that Minji’s heart feels the same, that she has been fruitlessly trying to keep herself together by stitching incoherent pieces together with her pricked and bloody fingers). 

Struggling to swallow the knot in her throat, Bora’s voice is quiet, fragile, and delicate, as if anything louder would just disintegrate them into broken, segmented pieces of wretched grief. “I- Minji, never. Never have I ever thought of that. You- you mean the world to me. I could never-”

Falling back into her chair with her trembling legs, Minji runs her hands through her hair in distress as tears bleed from her eyes and stain her rosy cheeks, flushed from the rush of emotion. The wobbling vulnerability in her voice wavers, “How- how could I know that, Bora?” 

Getting out of her chair and walking towards her, Bora feels so heavy, like the weight of the sky is stacked on her shoulders. But, when she kneels and takes Minji’s hands in hers, it feels like being free of the burden. It feels like she is finally seeing her wife again for who she is and not this nonchalant and unbreakable facade—it gives her a strength that propels her forward in her need to be better for her, to keep her safe and protect her.

(Minji is not untouchable; she is there, right in front of her and Bora knows that if she holds on tight enough, if she pulls her into her embrace and becomes the person that Minji knows that she can be, she will stay).

Caressing her thumbs over the backs of Minji’s hands, she feels brave enough to press a kiss there—loving and adoring, apologetic and remorseful. Looking up at her, hoping that Minji can see her determination and will, Bora hears the sheer desperation in her voice.

“Don’t you see that I’m trying to be better? I love you, Ji. So much that I feel like all I know these days is that you’re the only one for me and that a life without you is one that’s miserable at best.” Feeling her voice shake, Bora takes a deep breath to steel herself, feels the need to be strong with her vulnerability and not allow it to break, “I know I hurt you. And I am so sorry for it. I’m sorry for hurting you, for making you feel anything less than worthy.” 

Even when hot tears spill from her own eyes, she pays no mind to them. (Minji unlaces her fingers to gently wipe them away, her eyes broken, but warm). 

Melting into her touch and gravitating towards it, Bora holds her hand even tighter, as if to show the crippling guilt in her heart, “I’m sorry for breaking so many promises and for breaking your trust and your heart.” As Minji cries too, Bora wipes her tears with the pads of her thumb with the utmost reverence and care.

Looking into her eyes and seeing life slowly drip back into them with a muted glow that softly pulsates with encouraging comfort, she continues in earnest. With her heart in throat like it wants to climb out and offer itself to the woman in front of her, it’s as if it is frightened that her words could never be enough to show what it truly feels. “I want you. I love you. And I want to be better for you.” 

Unabashed about her pleading, Bora allows for her overwhelming despair to show, hopes that her resolve is just as apparent, “Please, Minji, even if I don’t deserve it, give me the chance. And I promise you, the vows I shared with you, I will keep them. To cherish, to love, to endure, I devote this life, my love, to you. And if it’s not enough, I’ll find a way to be enough. Because I can’t do this without you. Everything I have planned for the future, we have planned for the future, I don’t want it to be with anyone else but you.”

Minji hiccups, stumbles over her words, her tears spilling in abundance when she untangles her fingers from Bora’s to softly cup her cheeks, her voice low and compassionate, “My future is yours, Bboya. I want this to work—I need for us to last because I don’t know what I would do without you.” Being held like she’s precious, Bora can’t help how she sobs and how it wracks through her small frame, how she wraps her arms around Minji’s legs just to have some part of her close to her as her shoulders shake. Standing up to push her chair back to sink to her knees too, Minji’s grasp is gentle as it unravels the woman’s arms to wrap them around her neck, hers coming to pull Bora in by her waist. When Bora buries her face into the crook of Minji’s neck as she bawls, Minji just holds her tighter—like her arms are the only things keeping her wife together. Nuzzling into her hair and kissing her temple with soft devotion, Minji’s voice is hushed and gentle, “I love you, baby. So much. Keep your promises to me; I’ll always do the same for you.”

With her face in Minji’s neck and being held so tightly in her arms like she might float away if she doesn’t, Bora is too relieved to care about how her nose runs and how she is using her wife as a tissue. And Minji doesn’t seem to care either because she just holds her and caresses mindless patterns on her back until Bora’s shoulders no longer shake, until her tears no longer run.

When Minji pulls away and drops to her haunches to meet her wife’s height and gently lifts her chin with her pointer finger, the sight of Minji’s soft smile and loving eyes are enough to heal the stinging gouges in Bora’s heart. Her voice worn from the crying, the smaller woman laughs softly, “I made a mess all over you.” Minji echoes a fond laugh and reaches for her unused tissue on the dinner table and tenderly wipes away the snot and tears on her wife’s face with unbridled adoration in her eyes.

“We can just clean up and shower together. I miss doing that with you.”

Heart feeling so full that it spills in wholesome elation, Bora’s grin is free and content as she wipes the tears on Minji’s cheeks with her sleeves. Happy to know that Minji missed that part of their routine too, it’s an honest admission that leaves her lips, “I’ve missed you so much, Ji. Unbearably.”

Even when Minji says, “I missed you, too,” the longing in her eyes is no longer desperate but rather, patient and affectionate.

And when she comes closer to lightly nuzzle her nose against Bora’s, it’s an indescribable burst of warmth and fondness when she gently grazes her lips against hers. Before she can pull away, Bora’s hand comes to rest at the back of her neck to keep her there and plays with the soft tendrils of hair between her fingers. Pushing her lips against Minji’s again because she needs her close, needs to feel her love like this because it has been so long since she has felt love in their kisses, Bora can’t help how she smiles into it, loves feeling the corners of Minji’s lips mirroring hers, loves hearing how she giggles into it.

It feels like she can breathe again after being deprived of air, like being caught after free-falling. Minji is her safety; she is her home, she is her comfort. She is her hope. 

She is _everything_ to Bora.

And she will cherish her until her last breath—until she is nothing to the universe.

(But, as long as Minji loves her too, nothing else matters).

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m planning an epilogue so stay tuned! if you have anything you’d like to see, drop me a comment or hit up my cc and i’ll figure something out! thanks for reading and i hope you all enjoyed the ride!

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! you can find me on twitter and cc @kminjyus
> 
> i'd love to know what you thought of this!


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